Through the Spy's glass
by A.C.Terrell
Summary: Sherlock gets caught in a dangerous game of chess...and is swept into a world where six impossible things can become possible before breakfast. The question...Who is the white queen...and how will she change his life forever. Curiouser and Curiouser ...XD. SherlockX OC, johnX OC rated T for now if continued will definitly go up Please R&R to be continued
1. Down the rabbit's hole

Disclaimer: I own nothing in this fanfiction except my own original character. All charcters (and references) belong to their respective copyrighted owners. This work is purely for entertainment purposes (Please enjoy :D)

(BANG)

The sound echoed in the air as Sherlock stood facing the murderer a man who had killed seven people in the past two weeks in the name of his arch enemy, a man presumed dead. A searing pain spread across Sherlock's chest as his vision suddenly blurred and he fell backwards off the bridge and into the depths of the the ice covered river below. The last thing he heard before he lost consciousness and disappeared under the ice was John shouting his name quickly followed by another gun shot. His last thought was 'John you simpleton! I need to interrogate the killer...I need to know...' then everything went black.

Later his bright blue eyes snapped open. He smelled roses. He saw a white crystal chandelier hanging above him. He was in a large expensive king sized bed with imported sheets. He looked around for a moment deducting exactly where he was. It would be annoying to get a taxi at Kensington this time of day. Where was John? That idiot shot and probably killed his murderer. How inconvenient he had wanted to play. His shoulder seared with pain. But he could tell the wound was clean and had been expertly dressed. There was no permanent damage. But right now he needed to focus on the two very important questions at hand. 1) Why was he in the house of an international spy? 2) Why was he naked in bed with her?

His eyes shifted down to the woman who lay draped over his person. Her hair was long and dyed dark red, darker than molly's. Her natural hair color was a light blonde. Yet it was still soft. He would have to do an experiment to see if he could classify specific locations in the world where women had their hair professionally dyed. She was toned and muscular yet curvy, her breasts being exactly one size and 3/4 bigger than the woman's as they pressed into his chest she had less than 3% body fat. Actually she was quite the specimen of wom-...um person. He could feel a scar around five years old on her left hip that was draped across his groin, and another over ten years old on her back below her left shoulder where his own arm was wrapped around her waist.

He looked around determining how to get out of the bed without waking her. As she was a spy she was probably armed even as she lay naked in his arms. But it was cold out from beneath the blankets and it would be rude to wake her. Well that was interesting..Why was that interesting? It was perfectly logical for him not to want to get out of bed where its cold or to wake up a naked woman who was draped across him keeping him warm. But there were questions to be answered...He would get out of bed in exactly five minutes and find out who she was. After all John was probably out fighting at the grocery store again. He wouldn't be available for another half hour. He could text him. But that required getting out of bed to get his phone which but that was probably at the bottom of the river...and it was cold. Maybe ten minutes...

The woman sighed and nuzzled closer into his chest and shifted her leg so it rubbed against his... It was really getting hot in this bed, he thought to himself as he closed his eyes hard for a moment until she finished shifting before he finally relaxed his body.

"Good morning," a soft voice suddenly caught his attention.

He looked down to see a pair of dark ocean blue eyes rimmed by long this eye lashes. That reminded him he needed to take his eyeballs out of the freezer to check their densities.

"Good morning," He said in his deep voice.

He wasn't sure where to go from here. He supposed he needed to get up now...But it was still cold, and he wasn't sure where his clothing was. They seemed frozen in a stare down. Finally she broke the silence.

"Your clothing was ruined by the water...I had a new set brought up for you." She said as she smiled up at him.

"Thank you." He replied which was quickly followed by. "Ummm..would you mind terribly letting me up so I can get dressed?"

"Of course," She replied. Then a mischievous smile appeared across her full pouty lips. "Would you mind terribly letting ME up?"

Sherlock then realized his arms were still wrapped around her, holding her to him almost tightly. He quickly released her. She shifted over before she threw off the covers and stepped out of bed. Sherlock's eyes shifted up and down as he watched her. He was accurate about her measurements.

"You had hypothermia when I saved you from the water. I had to warm you some how..."

"A hot water bath would have sufficed or a ...blanket." He said curtly as he sat up on the edge of the bed.

"Yes, but where's the fun in that?" She asked with a smile as she walked across to a large ornate wardrobe and began thoughtfully looking through the clothes for something to wear cocking her hip to the side as she had no shame of being naked in front of him.

"Don't you want to know why I saved you?"

"I already know," he answered as he continued to watch her carefully. "What I want to know is ...why do you want me to help you find Moriarty?"

She paused and gave a smile before she turned around to look at him over her shoulder. "Very good, what else do you know?"

A small grin appeared upon his lips, he did enjoy showing off.

"Officially your name is Alice Morning you were born in here but went to live in America when you were ten years old. You are here as a liaison for a large American corporation setting up trade routes. But that is a lie isn't. You are actually an American Spy code named the White Queen who is here on loan helping MI6. Beneath that you are here on personal business looking for your half brother with whom you quarreled some years ago and who gave you that scar on your hip five years ago. You want to reconcile with him as you were very close. You were named for Alice in Wonderland, which is also your favorite book, also where you got your code name. You are single. You jog through the park every morning at 5 a.m always with a gun. You do not smoke and only occasionally drink red wine. You paint as a hobby and also dabble as a dominatrix. You own a horse a friesian stallion that you brought from America and keep in the country. You go riding every few days when you have time...and yes..despite common misconception your breasts are ...very real."

Alice stood there listening to him and when he finished her eyebrow shot up. "Very good Mr. Holmes...you are not completely the halfwit I expected...you were able to completely deduct my cover...but not the real me...you were wrong on quite a few points."

Sherlock stared at her. He wasn't wrong..He was hardly ever wrong. The evidence was obvious. He quickly became annoyed.

"You were in the paper here as a liaison setting up trade routes. Your picture was on the cover of the business section. I've seen your file in MI6 and in the CIA data bases. There is a picture on your wall of you at ten years old in front of a house in America the same house your family moved too the same year as said in your file. There is also a picture of you and your brother as children as well as a letter in which he apologized for ever hurting you and told you not to follow or try to contact him ever again dated five years ago, I can see it from here, as well as a map that pinpoints the locations of where you think he has been.

Over my shoulder there is a picture of you on Friesian stallion. Behind you in the wardrobe are riding clothes and boots covered in mud no more than a day or two old. There is a long black horse hair upon the floor which has the same signature as that of a Friesian. But as you have been here for the past year you would not have wanted to simply ride any horse, especially if you love your horse enough to frame a picture of him. So you brought him with you. There is a pile of jogging clothing beside the wardrobe with shoes that are covered with fresh grass that has is only a few hours old so you went running. Judging by your body you are very fit and probably go jogging very often. Considering the line of work you are in where there is very little knowledge of the future or of control. I would say you are the kind of person who like to find organization and habit when you can, something such as working out at a regular time each day.

The nearest park from here is Hyde park which is a given for a jogger. The gun is a given as well considering your line of work and that no woman in her right mind would go jogging in the dark in a park with no protection. I can see your well used easel against the wall, and the leather, riding crop and hand cuffs behind you. I can also see the Alice in Wonderland figurines on the shelf above your bed and your hard back copy on your desk which is leather bound and worn so it has been read many times. I can also see the inscription To: Alice with love from your cheshire cat. Considering the handwriting, the book was given to you by your brother."

As he spoke she walked around to face him standing mere inches above him. Sherlock was forced to lift his head to look at her face and not her large breasts that were so close to his face. He did so very slowly. She looked down at him with a mischievous smile.

"And my breasts?"

He paused for a moment.

"Any that big will bring into question whether or not they are real...Despite the fact that I have never been in bed with a woman before...I know real breasts when I see them. Now tell me...why do you want me to help you find James Moriarty?"

She stared down at him with a large grin that only frustrated him. Though he showed no outward signs.

"How do you know I want you to help me find Moriarty?"

"Because of the red circles on your map above your desk. They are the same places in london where he pulled off his schemes including the place where he killed himself."

Her smile grew. "That is where you killed yourself as well...yet here you are talking about my breasts."

She was having quite a bit of fun with this. But as his glare she decided to give him a bone.

"As I said you deducted my cover beautifully...But that is all it is... I am not an American Spy. I am not affiliated with any particular country. America just happened to be the last agency I worked with. Like you I am the first of my kind...a consulting spy. I am the person countries come to when they're own agents are too incompetent to get the job done. I decided to help your country because this is where Moriarty is and the last place my brother was seen alive. Yes I did once own a Friesian but he is not here and I do not go riding every few days. The place where I work from is in the country and horseback riding is as good a cover as any to go. I am constantly watched by your government as well as many others and I would be stupid to do my work here. But if I am followed to the country they will see my riding gear. They will see me go to a stable where my dear horse is kept and they will even see "me" go out riding for several hours. But in reality I never left the stable, at least not on horse back, and if someone breaks in here they will see a picture of me on my horse, as well as riding gear and even a stallion hair to confirm my story. As for painting, a cover hobby. It is how I send messages to my contacts, a form of secret message that has been used for thousands of years. But any idiot who wandered in here would simply see a hobby of painting to relieve stress. As for or being a dominatrix. I have to say I did learn from the best...a mutual friend we share actually. I do work out but usually late at night. I do not jog but work out at a facility specifically set up for my personal use. I did however go out this morning so I could break into your flat to get some things for you and leave a note for that wonderful woman who cares for you that you are alright. I went on foot since that was the easiest way to avoid being followed, and cut through the park. There is a picture of me visiting my family's home in America when I was ten years old. I'm not here to find my brother...he is dead...I AM here to settle a score with Moriarty." She said as she looked down at him. "You are his arch nemesis, the immovable object to his unstoppable force. If anyone can find him and bring him out...its you. Not to mention I believe you would like to find him as well. You haven't been sleeping at night have you. Not since that day...is it because you know he is still out there?"

"Moriarty is dead." Sherlock growled. Even though inwardly he was not sure whether his words were said more to convince her or himself.

Alice rolled her eyes and turned away from him to walk towards the chair of her desk where a suitcase sat.

"Don't pretend to be stupid Sherlock...Its unattractive and you do it badly. " She said with a sigh as she grabbed the suitcase and opened it.

Sherlock watched her with a glare as she moved. "What could you possibly know about me."

Alice paused and turned to look at him once again with a smile.

"Oh ..nothing much.." She said with a grin. "I know you are Sherlock Holmes of 221 Baker street, where you live with your best and only friend Dr. John Watson. I know you consider yourself a high functioning sociopath. You pick-pocket people when they are annoying. You do experiments using cadavers in your home. You open show disdain for your brother Mycroft Holmes, Yet deep down you respect and worry about him probably as much if not more, why else would you constantly be breaking into official files..."

"I get bored," Sherlock suddenly piped up."I'm looking for entertainment...possible cases..."

Her eyes narrowed. "Possibly but I think not. You don't want anyone to know that you are watching out for your brother. I know that for the longest time you were stuck in a depression until you moved in with John and Mrs. Hudson and you are happier now because you feel you actually have a family, and you would go to any length to protect that family...even fake your own death. I know that you know of the feelings a certain coroner harbors for you, yet you only see her as a little sister at best or as a tool to be used for your benefit..."

"Don't you dare mention Molly." He growled sending her a dangerous look.

"Oh? How is the little dormouse? Have you seen her since your last case?"she asked with a knowing smile.

Sherlock couldn't answer. He knew he hadn't seen her recently. He really should pay her more attention, especially after all of her help. She deserved more attention. But he couldn't bring himself to give her the attention she wanted from him. He simply did not return her feelings, and never would.

She waited quietly for an answer crossing her arms, and slightly bending a knee for a more comfortable stance. After a moment she continued, she knew she was getting to him.

"I know you have nightmares about Moriarty, about him coming into your flat and killing everyone you love. I know you are afraid that if you don't find him, then he will find you first..."

"No," Sherlock growled. "I'm not..."

"I know that you are afraid if you stop working, stop helping others you will become what everyone believes you to be..."

"Stop it..."

"You are afraid of losing control, of hurting an innocent or worse someone you love, and being locked away, and left alone labeled a psychopath..."

"SHUT UP!"

Sherlock suddenly burst from the bedside and grabbed her by the arms shoving her back hard into the wall holding her their with his own. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked up at him in shock caught in his icy glare. His breathing was labored as he stared down at her. He could feel her heart racing as he pressed his naked body against hers, and his raced along with hers. His body trembled with anger, hers trembled with either excitement or fear...or both. They stood caught in a stare down, the air almost crackling around them with tension. Alice's body tingled where his skin touched hers. She could feel his hot breath on hers. Slowly her smile returned and after a moment she spoke in a low husky voice.

"I know you hide three cigarettes in a skull you keep in your flat..." She said quietly, then she leaned in to whisper her full lips coming so close to his they barely grazed as she spoke. " But most importantly..." She whispered. "You...are the mad man...in a funny hat...who's going to help me find..my white rabbit."

Sherlock didn't move didn't blink. But a small grin played at the edges of his mouth as he looked at her thoughtfully.

"Why did you tell me about what I got wrong?" he asked suddenly curious. "You're a spy. You live secrets...why did you tell me the truth about yourself?"

Alice's smile grew. Finally he asked a right question.

"I want you to know me," She whispered. "I want you to know...every ..inch ...of me...Its important if we are to be colleagues."

Sherlock watched her for a moment and then began to slightly leaned in as if to say or do something...suddenly the doorbell rang. Alice slightly turned her head to look at the clock that sat upon her desk. Sherlock didn't move or look away, he stood there staring at the place where her face had been a moment a go. Alice's smile grew as she looked at the clock and then turned back to look at him.

"It appears you have company...right on time." She said as she leaned back down to the side to pick up a small bag she had taken from the suitcase to hand to him.

Sherlock slowly dropped his arms from her suddenly realizing they had moved down to her waist. He reached up and took the bag from her hand, his fingers lingered on hers for a moment. Her pulse was calm and regular. She took a step and slid out from between his body and wall, making sure to do it slowly so he felt every inch of her body pressed against his. Then she quickly walked back to the wardrobe and pulled out a long light blue gown that she slid over her head and fell to the floor. The satin gown showed off every delectable curve on her slender body.

"I'm afraid the pants might be an inch or so off. I missed that your left leg is slightly longer than your right." she said as she walked over to her dressing table and quickly ran a brush through her long thick tresses.

Sherlock then took notice of the clothing and turned to look at her curiously. "These are tailored..."

A small laugh escaped her lips as she turned to look at him. "Of course they are...I sized you up the moment I laid eyes on you."

Even Sherlock had to admit to himself that he was impressed..not that he would admit it to another living soul. He quickly began pulling the clothes on. He could only imagine the reaction John would have to this development. Alice had finished primping and walked to the door when she suddenly paused and turned around.

"Oh and by the way." she said with her mischievous smile causing him to pause midway through pulling his pants up. "I also know that despite common misconception...you most certainly...are not gay."

Sherlocks eyes shifted curiously. "And how would you know that?"

Her eyes shifted down for a moment as her wet tongue slowly crept out to slide across her lips before disappearing again behind her smile. Sherlock felt his body growing hot. A finely arched brow shot up as she continued to look at him. At first Sherlock didn't until he looked down to where her eye sight was drawn. Damn betrayed again by something as inconvenient and boring as his own damned body. He looked back up to her smiling face. She gave a wink and then disappeared out the door.

John had to take a breath as he looked around the luxurious town house before he was lead into the sitting room by the waitstaff. He had been sick with grief all night worried that he had just seen his best and only friend die..again, when he received a text from unknown number saying that Sherlock was alive and well and he would see him the next day. He had tried to phone the number but the call had rang out. He then received another message telling him to be patience and have a little faith, and that whoever was at the other in would never allow anything to happen to Sherlock Holmes.

Not feeling much better John had been forced to wait. After another sleepless night spent in the office of Lestrade, he had attempted to go to the grocery store again as there was no food in the house only to once again get into a fight with the damned pay machine. Finally he had received a text with an address to this expensive town house in Kensington Gardens. He had promptly called a cab and where he was waiting patiently upon a velvet plush settee waiting to see what state his reckless flat mate was in.

Suddenly the door opened and in walked the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. John felt his breath catch in his chest. So once again Sherlock who's area was not girlfriends had found himself yet again in the home of a beautiful woman. Well at-least this one was wearing something, even if that something only made him sweat.

"Good morning," He stammered as her stormy blue eyes fell on him. "I'm here for my colleague Sherlock Holmes? I'm John Watson."

Alice walked over to him as he spoke her eyes twinkling and her smile never wavering. "Yes, I know exactly who you are Dr. Watson." She said as she walked up, grabbed his arms and pressed her moist lips hard to his.

John felt himself freeze. His boy began to tremble of its own accord as she passionately kissed him. Normally stressful situations made him calm and relaxed. But now he was not sure what to do or think as the gorgeous woman slowly snaked her hot wet tongue between his lips and into his mouth. Frankly he wasn't sure of his name at the moment.

Finally, the woman broke the kiss and pulled away from him, her full pink lips swollen from the fevered kiss she had just bestowed upon him.

"My name is Alice." She said happily as if nothing had happened.

"P-please..call m-me J-John." He stammered out as he attempted to control his breathing.

"And I'm hungry," Sherlock suddenly growled from the door. He glared at the pair whom he had just walked in on snogging. "John...time to go."

Alice tilted her head curiously wondering at his anger. John was still trying to collect his wits about him.

"Y-yes but shouldn't we stay a moment?" John stammered pulling at the collar of his jumper. "I mean she did save your life..."

"Yes," Alice said turning to look back and forth between the two men. "I would be happy to order some tea and we can sit and discuss..."

"No," Sherlock said curtly. "We have work to do..must be going." Then he abruptly turned around and left the room.

John sighed and turned to face the woman again. "Sorry..must be going..it was a pleasure to kiss you..." Then he caught himself. "I mean m-meet you." he said as he shakily shook her hand before quickly following Sherlock out the door.

Alice stared for a moment unsure of what happened. "Curiouser and curiouser..." She mumbled to herself before she too walked towards the door.

Sherlock was in the process of hailing taxi by the time John caught up with him.

"Um...excuse me" he began. "But what on earth was that? Who was she?"

"She's dangerous, You should stay away from her." Sherlock said warning.

"Dangerous...what do you mean dangerous...Dangerous as in Irene Adler dangerous?" John asked turning to look back up at the house. "Because she seemed quite friendly really." He said as he once again reached up to tug at his collar.

"She's about as friendly as a smiling cat...stay away from her." Sherlock repeated as a cab pulled up to the side walk to pick them up.

Suddenly a voice called from behind them.

"Sherlock..." Alice said from the top of the steps. "You forgot something..."  
She grinned as she held up his phone. Both men froze and turned to look at her.

Slowly Sherlock began to walk back up the steps towards her.

"This is the exact same model," She began as she looked down at the mobile. "I transferred all of your contacts and recent messages so it will be as if nothings changed." She held out the phone to glared up at her as he reached out to take the phone, unsure of why he felt so angry. But as he grabbed the phone from her she caught his arm.

"Its important that we all get along if we are going to work together." She whispered so John couldn't hear.

"What makes you think I would ever agree to work with you?" Sherlock sneered.

She gave him a seductive smile. "Oh I think you will...You're going to want to help me...and you are going to want my help...You're going to beg me for it..." She said in her low husky voice.

"And why would I want to do that?" He asked defiantly.

"Because it will be fun," She replied. "Because it will be the most exciting game you have played yet. More importantly...It will give you peace...from the nightmares...from the fear of being left alone...It will make you forget about the pain..."

"I never have peace he retorted, no one as smart as I ever have peace." He growled before his gaze softened for the smallest moment. "The nightmares never go away..."

"Then why did you sleep so soundly last night?" She asked as she watched him intently taking in his tiniest reaction as she had been trained to do. "Why have you not once reacted in pain to your wounded shoulder?"

"I was unconscious from a gun wound and a swim in the river." He said. "And I have trained myself to ignore the feeble signals of my body. Its all about mind over matter and conquering the weaknesses of one's body-"

"Or it was because you slept in my arms..." She said quietly. "And because your body responded to mine..."

Sherlock immediately quieted, so furious he could not think of a thing to say which was unusual.

"If that is what helps you to sleep better at night." He retorted before turning away and pulling out of her grasp.

"No but it worked for you." She said from behind him causing him to pause for a moment. "Remember Sherlock,...It would behoove you to make friends with the arch enemy of your arch enemy...You know where to find me."

Sherlock did not say another word before he climbed into the taxi. John looked at the woman again with an almost shy smile across his face as he lifted his hand in a wave and then climbed into the other side of the taxi. Alice returned his wave as her own phone rang and she turned to answer it and walked inside. She watched the taxi drive away through her window as she spoke upon the phone.

"Oh yes Mr. Caterpillar," She said into the speaker with a smile. "Step one is complete. It is only a matter of time before the fun begins." She said before going quiet as the other person spoke. "Very good," She replied. "Now...lets talk business shall we? I saved YOUR brother...you tell me what I want to know about mine..."

"What was that about?" John asked as they drove back towards Baker Street.

Sherlock continued to watch the woman until she disappeared into the house. Then he turned to look down at his phone.

"Sherlock..." John asked. "Who was she...why did she save you?"

"Haven't the slightest," Sherlock lied.

John stared out the window remembering the kiss she had given him.

"Do you think we'll see her again?" He asked curiously not turning to Sherlock for fear of what look might be on his face.

"More than likely. Women like her have a habit of turning up in the oddest places...though they can be extremely useful when one is in a tight spot, such as getting shot..." Sherlock replied looking down again at his new phone.

"Yea well...in that case, next time I want to be the one shot." John said in a half joking manner.

"Next time, you might be shot BY her." Sherlock said matter-of-fact as he began to go through his new phone.

The last time a woman had his phone he ended up with a very personalized ring tone and since this woman seemed much worse he could only imagine what she might leave for him. It didn't take him long to find what he was looking for. The background of his new phone contained a picture taken the night before. It showed them wrapped in one another's arms sleeping. He was surprised to see himself looking peaceful as he lay with his chin resting upon the top of her head. Then he got a text. The same ringtone given to him by THE WOMAN echoed through the car. But the picture ID that came up was of a completely different person. It was a rather sexual nude picture of Alice. The text read: See you soon mad man. Btw the queen of hearts sends her regards. She said referring to their mutual friend whom taught her everything she knew.

"Are you ever going to change that ringtone?" John asked roughly as he hated that particular ringtone and who it reminded him of.

A grin played across Sherlock's lips. One of the reason's he kept it was to annoy John because it was so entertaining. Then he looked back out the window as they turned onto Baker Street and began to get lost in his own thoughts. He had to admit the woman was impressive, in some ways even more so that THE WOMAN. She was also more frustrating and beyond infuriating. It was quite interesting how she brought out so much anger in him. But she had been right about one thing he thought to himself.

"Oh yes," He whispered quietly to himself. "I will be seeing you very soon...Alice Moriarty..."

Author's notes:

So this oneshot began as a crazy dream I had the other night that has plagued me and plagued me until I had to write it down. I love the Alice in Wonderland and through the looking glass references. I also had alot of fun with the banter between Alice and Sherlock. I did my best to keep him as in character as possible. If I failed, my deepest apologies. I have to say even after writing this story down I am still very (if not more intrigued by this story line and couple. But I promised myself I would only post this as a one shot to be continued if anyone liked it. I do have alot of other stories going on right now. But if you do like it please let me know by leaving a review and some do I will be more than happy to continue it. As I said it is not often I am actually curious to see what comes next in one of my stories when I don't know what to expect and this has turned out to be one of those. If you didn't like it that is perfectly alright, its only a one shot and I am sure there are much better stories out there to make you happy again. All I ask is that if you didn't like it and want to tell me so that you not be rude..because that is historically not awesome. But if you do ...and im hoping you will...let me know. Anyway it is now almost 5 am . I will be back after a few hours of sleep to double check grammar and such. Hope everyone has a wonderful day and again thank you so much for reading. Please R&R


	2. The Queen's Shot

(Chapter 2)

"Ah, ah, ah, ah Staying alive," The cellular began to sing as it danced upon the small table.

Alice moaned as she rolled over in the large bed and picked it up.

"Hello?" She mumbled in a sleepy voice.

After a moment her eyes widened and she was instantly wide awake.

"Is that so?" She asked with a mischievous grin. "How unfortunate, my big brother is being quite wicked..."

She quickly rolled out of bed again completely nude because that was the only way she slept and walked over to her wardrobe to get dressed.

"Yes, quite right I'm sure there are better ways to fire people than that." She said then gave a sigh. "Very well...I have a function today that I must be at..."

She went silent to listen as the caller spoke and she rummaged through the hangers looking for a suitable outfit.

"Oh don't worry I promise I won't be too naughty...yes, Mr. Caterpillar. I know we don't have much time. I have been keeping an eye on him. Its only a matter of time now before he comes...yes, I'm sure of it...Very well...I will speak with you soon."

Alice ended the call and threw the phone on the bed as she began to get dressed.

"Mary Ann!" She called out. "We have company coming"

Then a smile crossed her face as she walked back to her bedside table to grab the gun she always kept on her person. She had to admit to herself she was a bit excited. It had been quite some time since she had seen him. She hated sticking to the shadows, but it had been best. She would not chase after him as dear Irene had. Though she admired her old flame's antics, she was more the old fashioned type...let the gentleman chase the lady. But with her brother sending a warning to her. It was time to speed things along. Once she answered his warning the game would begin and besides...she had become bored with helping the caterpillar with his little Egypt problem...It was time for some fun.

It was around nine o clock when John sat down at the cafe to eat his breakfast. He had gone out early for grocery shopping when a delicious smell caught his nose and pulled him into the cafe. Sherlock had been in a state this morning so John had no problems taking his time. It was times like these when his associate was the most difficult, and ever since the shooting incident he had become especially moody. He refused to tell John what had happened with Alice but whatever it was it was affecting him just as bad if not worse than when Irene Adler broke whatever manner of heart Sherlock holmes had.

John gave a sigh as he opened his newspaper. The main article that caught his eye featured a picture of a gorgeous woman whom John recognized, Alice Morning. John brought his fingers up to caress his lips where she had so passionately kissed him the first time they met. She was to be at a charity function today. He couldn't deny that he himself was hoping to meet her again. Though he knew when someone was completely out of his league...

"Excuse me," a calm smooth voice called out to one of the servers of the cafe.

John looked up and felt his breath catch. There she was standing at the counter waiting to be served. The gorgeous woman of his dreams standing there is in long royal blue trench and hat.. John quickly got up and walked over.

"Hello, Alice?" He asked shyly.

But the person who turned around was not Alice Morning on closer inspection. John found himself staring into a pair of bright sparkling green eyes. He felt his heart begin to hammer in his chest. Though this woman was not Alice, she was no less if not more beautiful than the woman who had kissed him. She gave a smile that caused him to stand there like a simpleton.

"I'm sorry?" She asked politely.

"I-I beg your pardon." He stammered shyly. "I thought you were someone else."

"Oh, I see." She responded cooly her smile never faltering. " Honest mistake." Then she turned back to the counter to continue looking at the menu with a somewhat familiar mischievous smile on her lips.

John stared at her for a moment. She had to be related somehow. The resemblance was uncanny. Were it not for her green eyes and dark black hair he would believe them identical twins.

"I-Im sorry, but are you related to Alice morning?" He asked

She turned back to him with a smile. "Alice morning? The american business woman?" She asked pulling up her own paper. "No..." She said looking back up to him. "Why do you think I look like her?"

Now thoroughly embarrassed John quickly backtracked. "No No, of course not...that would be silly..."

"Oh," The woman's face fell. "Thats too bad...She is very beautiful..."

"Ah, I mean...yes..you do ...share a slight resemblance..." John was quickly beginning to sweat.

The woman giggled at his adorable stumbling. Soon John began to laugh right along with her. After a moment they broke into full blown laughter sounding as if they had been friends forever. Finally, John was able to quell his laughter. It had been so long since he had laughed like that.

"My name is John Watson." He said when he was finally able to catch his breath.

The woman gleamed at him as her laughter died down as well.

"My name is Mary Ann Morstan." She said with a big smile. "But please...call me Mary."

The floor of 221 B Baker St shook as Sherlock stomped around in anger and frustration as he applied his fourth nicotine patch. He was in such a state of anger that the outline of the smiley face painted long ago was completely shot in a neat line of bullets and the poster of his beloved skull had begun to suffer the same fate. It had been a week since his last case had been solved. He was bored...very bored. He hated being bored. Being bored made his mind race uncontrollably, and lately it had been racing back to one particular subject on which seemed to only throw him into a fit of rage.

"Damned woman," He growled to no one as he continued to pace."Damned cursed woman..."

It had been two months since he had woken up in HER bed, and he couldn't seem to get her out of his head. When it had been Irene Adler, he had been harassed with text after boring text about "Dinner". But THIS woman...this cursed hateful woman...He had heard nothing. She had not texted him, not sent any sort of word or message. She was still in England. He had seen her in the newspapers and, and her file was still active upon the government sites. He looked down at his phone that still held the picture of them together in bed. Grabbing the phone he flipped to her number that showed her naked id picture. Why was it that he could still remember very vividly the smell and touch of her skin, the look in her eyes. He could remember in detail the smell of her hair It was INFURIATING that's what it was. He knew what she was trying to do, but it wouldn't work! She had tempted him with thoughts of finding Moriarty. She was trying to manipulate him.

But that was impossible, Moriarty was dead. Yet if he truly was, why was his own sister now after him. Faking a gun shot wound was even easier than what he had pulled off, and even he himself couldn't believe that Moriarty would be so dull as to kill himself simply to drive his enemy to do the same..the point of the game was winning. But then what reason did she have to seek him out. She said it was because he was Moriartys arch enemy and if anyone could drive him out Sherlock could. But she could also be tricking him in an attempt to lure him in to reap revenge for her brother, and she was a spy, seducing to get what she wanted was in her job description. But why did she sound so sincere when she had spoke of him having peace, dull of course. But he could also tell when a person was lying to him and either she was being sincere which was highly annoying...or he had been wrong...impossible...Yet there was something missing...

Sherlock paused in his pacing and closed his eyes to think...There was something to this puzzle he wasn't seeing...Why did she wait until now after he was dead to come after him...why not before...and why was she so open to Sherlock..there had to be more of a reason..and why hadn't she contacted him if she wanted him to help her. He was certain she had been watching him all this time. There were times when he was sure that he saw her in a crowd. He was certain she had been the woman he passed the night before as he and John got out of a cab home from a crime scene.

Even just a few days before Sherlock had heard Mrs. Hudson speaking to someone. He had gotten bored of hearing her speak of how wonderful the flat was and had gone into his mind palace to contemplate. A while later when John was back Mrs. Hudson had brought them dinner and spoke of "the most beautiful girl she had ever seen," coming to view the flat above. According to Mrs. Hudson the girl was "the sweetest girl she had ever seen" She thought that she would make a fine wife for John or someone. "She had the most beautiful long red hair and blue eyes." Sherlock snorted at the idea of John marrying Alice...Over his dead body... It wouldn't last a month before he would be investigating his best friends murder, he thought as Mrs. Hudson continued on about how that was exactly how she looked in her younger days. She was toying with him. She was baiting him...like a dog baits a bear. Suddenly his eyes flew open and he had an epiphany.

"Ahh," He said out loud. "I see your game now...You are waiting for me to come to you aren't you...You are waiting for your seed of evil to take root and drive me right into your clutches..." He said as he turned to stare at the smiley face on the wall. " Well it wont work! I will not come begging to you for a DAMNED THING!" He roared at the wall.

He then jerked around and all but ran to his desk to rummage through the papers that lay scattered. He had to find a case, any case. There had to be a case to take his mind off of that hateful woman who plagued his thoughts, AND WHERE WAS JOHN!? Sherlock sighed as he suddenly realized his flatmate was no where to be seen even though he had been talking to him a moment before. He shook his head in frustration. After several moments of rummaging he finally flung all of the papers off of his desk in anger. He lifted his arms to roughly run his fingers through his curly hair as he walked towards the window. Suddenly something or someone rather caught his attention.

Down on the street he saw a familiar female form walking past. The woman wore a long royal blue trench, heals, and a pair of dark sunglasses and hat that concealed most of her face. But her form and movement were familiar. Sherlock quickly turned and ran to the door, grabbing his jacket and nearly running over John carrying two large grocery bags in the process in his hasty exit.

"Sherlock what's wrong?" John cried. "Whats happened? Where are you going?!"

Sherlock didn't answer but quickly made his way down the stairs and out of the flat. By the time he hit the street he was sprinting in the direction where he had seen her walk. At the intersection he paused and spun around in a circle looking for the royal blue trench. Suddenly he spotted her across the street hailing a cab and took off across the street paying no attention to the oncoming traffic. He reached her at the same time a taxi pulled up to the curb to pick her up. Sherlock quickly grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him, causing her sunglasses to fly off of her face.

"Oh, damn," He growled. "Wrong one," He had just a moment to see that no it wasn't her as he gazed into a pair of furious green eyes. The next thing he saw was a black glove in the shape of a fist coming straight towards his face. John came running up just as the taxi with the woman drove away and Sherlock picked himself off the ground holding a now bloody nose.

"Sherlock what in god's name happened to you?" John asked as he pulled out handkerchief from his pocket to hand to Sherlock, inwardly wanting to laugh because someone finally punched his friend in the face.

"Nothing I'm fine." Sherlock growled as he took the handkerchief. " A simple misunderstanding."

"That was quite the misunderstanding." John said as he looked at Sherlock's nose. "Come on Mrs. Hudson is preparing lunch for us and I want to have a look at that nose."

Sherlock said nothing but looked off in the direction the cab had gone. That woman had looked just like her besides a few minor details. There was something very interesting about her. The violent manner in which she attacked him was almost deliberate. Any normal woman would have simply slapped him. But this woman wanted to make sure he felt pain. He would have to investigate further...

Several hours later Sherlock's phone rang.

"Sherlock holmes,...yes...yes...alright...see you soon."

John looked up from his newspaper as Sherlock hung up his phone.

"Whats happened?" He asked watching Sherlock stand and walk towards the door.

"Lestrade has a case...lets go."

John didn't have to be told twice. He quickly stood and grabbed his coat. Ten minutes later found the pair at the bank of England. Out front a large group of the media was having a field day taking pictures. John was dumbfounded as he stepped from the vehicle and saw the damage done to the ancient building. Sherlock simply stood quietly and observed as usual, his mind racing. All of the windows of the national bank had been blown out. Police officers were attempting to send away the journalists.

"How much was stolen?" asked Sherlock as Lestrade walked over to meet them.

"Well see, that's the problem." Lestrade began as he turned and began to lead them inside. "Nothing was taken...I've never seen anything like it..."

John looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"Well...Let me show you..." Lestrade replied as he lead them up the stairs of the bank and in through the doors.

Inside, four bodies were laid out and awaiting the coroner.

"These are four of the men who broke in." Lestrade said stopping by the bodies.  
"Four of them?"Sherlock lock asked looking down at the four men dressed in solid black, the normal dress or robbers.  
But there was something about them that was strange. He could tell by looking at them that their necks were broken. He walked over and knelt down by their bodies.

"Yes,...there was a woman with them..."

"A woman?!" John asked surprised.

"Lestrade, how many men did it take to gun these men down?" He asked as he pulled out his magnifying glass to get a closer look at their bodies.

He already knew the answer to his question. He just wanted Lestrade to say it. Each body was covered in bruise marks. Some with small breaks that were too small to be easily noticed by an outside eye. But it was obvious the breaks were large enough to cause pain. Whomever got a hold of these men knew what they were doing and made them suffer before they died.

"None, we didn't shoot them." Lestrade said as he watched Sherlock at work.

"You didn't then how did they die?" John asked as he too stood watching.

"Thats the strange part..." said Lestrade as he ran a hand through his hair. "They killed themselves."

John looked dumbfounded. "So these men break into the Bank of England, steal nothing and then kill themselves?"

"Apparently, and that was after they broke into to the house of a high profile American business woman named Alice Morning intending to kidnap or kill her."

Sherlock paused and turned around to look up at the other two men. John looked as if he were in shock. Lestrade looked at both men before launching into his explanation.

"The fingerprints of these men match those of the men who broke into her house, and killed three of her waitstaff. Luckily she wasn't there she's been at the royal fundraiser across town since before noon. We have someone there watching after her since she didn't want to leave and cause a scare and she didn't want to go back to the house until order was restored."

"Bloody hell," whispered John.

Sherlock stared at Lestrade quietly thinking before he finally stood.

"Show me the security tapes." he said and continued walking towards where the security office was.

As the three walked, Sherlock looked over to where the men and women who were present for the robbery were being questioned to what they saw. There were at least twelve men and seven women standing there who were witnesses. He noticed one of the women turned around facing away from him wearing a long royal blue trench with long black hair falling down her shoulders. He quickly turned his head back to the front and continued to follow Lestrade into the security room. Lestrade held his arm out inviting Sherlock and John to sit as he himself sat in the chair farthest from them. The detective inspector waited for the other two men to settle before he hit the play button on the large security screen.

~Two hours before~

Business was running as usual in the bank as people came and went making transactions. Suddenly, music could be heard seeming to come from no where. The music filled the building causing customer and staff alike to pause and listen to the 1812 Overture. As the music picked up pace and volume suddenly four black clad masked men burst from a side door and shot into the air causing panic as they forced everyone to hit the ground.

A fifth person walked out behind them dressed in a form fitted solid white outfit with a mask that covered her entire head and face leaving only her eyes to be seen. She walked through the foyer as if nothing were wrong with the world as she headed towards the vaults. Two of the other robbers quickly followed her. Moments later they arrived in front of the giant steel door that lead into the vault. She paused and stared at the door for a moment almost as if she were deciding on how to open it. Then she looked up at one of the camera's that sat on either side of the door. The camera zoomed in on her trying to get a positive identification. A pair of deep blue ocean eyes twinkled as they stared into the camera. Slowly the woman raised her hand in front of her in view of the camera. Then she gave a wink and snapped her fingers. A loud clicking was heard as the vault unlocked itself. One of the men pulled it open to allow the woman entry.

She calmly walked into the large vaults quickly followed by the two men. The three walked past several large shelves of gold bullion without a second glance. They headed straight for a separate door where a large wall of safe deposit boxes stood. The woman took out a small key from a pocket of her utility belt and quickly unlocked the box. Inside was a small shoe box. She took out the box and opened it and grabbed the contents, a small pocket journal. Then she replaced the box and closed the safe.

The three left the vaults having not touched anything else. As the woman walked through the large door she again raised her arm and snapped her fingers to activate the vaults lock. Then the three quickly made their way back up to the main foyer where the hostages were being kept. The two men ran over to where their comrades were pulling out several ropes. The climax of the music was coming soon.

The hostages were still laying face down on the floor. Most of them in tears, one was unconscious from fright. But some were watching. A few were brave enough to watch as the four masked men made nooses from the ropes and wrapped them around themselves before they all lined up at the balcony outside of the door. Each man hugging a white piece of cardboard that hung from their necks on a piece of string

The woman walked up to the center desk of the foyer and laid out the book she had taken from the deposit box. Again she looked at the camera and gave a wink. She lifted her hand and in an exaggerated motion pointed down towards the open book that now bore a blood red kiss mark. She continued to lean against the desk almost suggestively as the build up to the final crescendo came over the loud speakers. Finally she stood and turned to look at the four men lined up against the balcony. Again she lifted her hand in front of her. Several heads popped up to the floor, watching her carefully.

(Snap)

Suddenly the apocalypse began inside one of the oldest banks in the world, set to the music of Tchaikovsky. Explosions began to go off all around bank starting at the back and heading towards the front where the men stood. The hostages began to scream as glass exploded around them. The woman in white calmly began to walk forward to the music as the explosions went off around her.

Outside the police had arrived and Lestrade had just stepped out of his vehicle when the explosions had begun going off. Everyone around the bank instantly hit the ground as the building was surrounded in a cloud of dust and smoke. Inside the woman had made it to front of the bank with the others. She turned around to face the inside of the bank just as the final charges went off that blew out the front windows of the bank and caused the great chandelier to fall from the ceiling covering the place in darkness. The robbers had disappeared by flipping backwards over the balcony. Out front Lestrade slowly stood and stared in shock as the smoke cleared. From the front of the building hung the four men dressed in black, dead for all the city to see. Each of them bearing a white sign around their necks painted with large black letters:

BETTER. LUCK. NEXT. TIME.

(Authors notes)

So I decided to continue with this story I love my characters so much and I am quite curious to see where this story goes. I hope you enjoyed Alice's message to her brother as well as Mary Ann. If you notice there are alot of allusions to Alice in Wonderland and Through the looking glass. We all know that Mary was in the Sherlock universe...but there was a Mary...or a Mary Ann as well in the Alice universe. Anway please enjoy and please R&R much love


	3. Author's note

Author's note:

Hi Everyone! I wanted to let you all know that I will be taking a short Hiatus on my stories on Fanfiction. The reason being that I am working on my very first novel that is set to be published towards the beginning of the year. I'm so excited it about it! It is a romance story about a zombie like creature and a human but it is nothing like Warm bodies. It looks at love on the very deepest most primal level of human nature. It is very much a Beauty and the Beast meets Romeo and Juliet but again...not like Warm Bodies zombies don't magically come back to life in my story. I am a fan of the book btw and mean no disrespect in any shape form or fashion n.n Anyway I will most certainly be coming back to finish all stories coming up and when it gets closer to publishing time I will be posting the name of the book and such on here for anyone interested to be on the look out for it. Btw if anyone is interested I am looking for a few good readers with a keen eye to look over my work for me before I send it to my editor. If you might be interested please pm me and we can talk n.n I love you all very much and I hope you have a wonderful wonderful day. Thank you so much for reading my stories you are FABULOUS!


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